Twas the Night After Christmas

"Twas the Night After Christmas ...

and upstairs on his bed

Santa was sprawled out, receiving some head

from a gorgeous little elf with curly blonde hair,

pert firm breasts and a cute derriere

His eyes opened slowly, lids still heavy from exhaustion. "I'm too old for this shit," he thought to himself. He was stretched out on his king-sized bed, every muscle in his body screaming at him. The sleep he had captured over the last twelve hours had done little to ease the aches he felt throughout his aged frame. "Way too fucking old." he said, this time out loud. He kicked the covers off of his feet and thought that it was nice to be able to see his toes - it had been a while.

The old man rolled over and looked at the clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flashing at him - red numbers to match the red suit he had worn a little more than twenty-four hours ago - red numbers to match the red cheeks on his face, colored not by the cold night air that had washed over him as he circled the globe, but by the too many shots of whiskey he had downed after finishing this years task. He had needed the potion to calm his over stimulated mind, still hearing the voices of snotty little children (and more than a few big ones) ringing in his head as he wound down from one more Christmas expedition.

He readjusted his position, rolling over onto his other side, and was greeted with the sight of two of his elves sleeping next to him - female elves - adorably cute, hot, naked female elves. The fog behind his eyes began to dissipate, and he gazed at their bodies for a few moments, taking in the rise and fall of their breasts as they breathed in unison. The two elves were entangled with each other, the blanket covering them having slipped down, exposing their perfectly formed little elfin charms.

One of his delicious sleeping partners had glorious red locks that splayed across the pillow her head rested upon. The other had blonde hair, cut short, but with more curls than Shirley Temple. Her head was nestled in the armpit of the redhead. They both reeked of stale sex. His cock began to stir, and he began to remember more of the past twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours ago he had put his sleigh to bed, leaving the elves to deal with the task of cleaning up his reindeer. He had removed his suit, leaving it in a pile on the bathroom floor, his need to get into the shower so great that he didn't care if he missed the hamper. The steaming water spewed forth in sharp needles. He had shampooed his greasy white hair and had washed the reindeer crap from his beard. He had lathered up his cock and balls, knowing where to find them, but not being able to see them without the use of a mirror, because of the damn gut he grew each holiday season. He let the water, so hot it turned all of him cherry-red, cascade over him, until he could take it no longer.

The old man got out of the shower and toweled off. He stood at his vanity, staring at his face in the mirror. "It gets ruddier every year." He thought. He reached for a thick rubber band and pulled his long white hair into a ponytail. Taking a pair of barbers scissors from a vanity drawer, he began to cut the white beard from his face. When it was trimmed close enough, he lathered his face with a spice scented-shaving cream and shaved the remaining stubble off. Satisfied with the bald faced look, he put on a robe (white -- he was getting tired of crimson) and went out into his large living room.

It was empty, all of his little helpers making sure to give him a wide berth after the last grueling couple of months. They knew what he could be like in the hours after Christmas day. He had a reputation for being grumpy and now he would be even more so. There was no Mrs. Claus. That was a myth to satisfy the beliefs of people who thought family was not family unless a man and a woman were joined in wedlock.

The old man chuckled at that thought. His own beliefs were that man and woman should be joined, not in wedlock, but at the loins, and frequently. Marriage might be nice for some, but not him.

Nicholas, as he was known to his co-workers, hoped his elves were all tucked in for the night. His elves: that's how he thought of them. He lived with them, year round, and when he was in a social mood, enjoyed doing all sorts of things together with them. He worked with them. He cooked for them occasionally. He played cards with them. He went to movies with them. And he enjoyed fucking a few of them.

Yes, indeed, the old man had a fondness for several of his female fairies. They turned him on in so many ways. Each of the tiny nymphs that he slept with had, how to phrase this correctly, traits -- no -- specific strengths -- no - oh, hell they were all unique. Each one pleased him in different ways and, in turn, liked to be pleasured ... uniquely. (Which made him think of another version of an old corny joke: How do you surprise a horny elf? Unique up on her.)

The old man found he liked his one-on-one time with the women -- and make no mistake about it, they were women, albeit diminutive. However, he had discovered that he really loved it when more than one of them joined him. They were such perfectly formed physical specimens, but they were elves, and they were on the small side, and it was so much more fun to spread the 'Christmas' cheer around. In fact, one year a particularly buxom elf had playfully worn a nametag that read 'Christmas Cheer'. He felt obligated to spread that.

Walking across the wooden floor to his well-stocked liquor cabinet, the old man selected a nice rye whiskey. He poured the amber liquor over two ice cubes, completely covering them. Letting the rye chill for a minute, he turned to put an old Kinks album on his even older turntable. Returning to his tumbler, he began to sip slowly, letting the heat find its way down to his ample belly, warming him.

"Some jolly, old, fat bastard I am" the old man said to himself. "If people only knew what an antisocial, horny, crude-humored curmudgeon I really am, they may not ever let their little kiddies sit on my lap again."

At that, he thought back to the mall in Springfield, VA, where he had wished for the mother of that annoying little four year old, who kept tugging at his beard, to sit in his lap. He swore that he could see the outline of her pussy's labia through the tight leggings she was wearing. "No coal for you, sweetie. Santa's going to have a nice present for your box." He thought. For all of the magic that went into Christmas, he couldn't fathom for the life of him why he couldn't just snap his fingers, making sure all those snoring husbands stayed asleep, and give those wives and mothers the gift of a tremendous orgasm.

Bringing the bottle with him, he walked over to an oversized chair, putting the bottle down on an end table. He sat down and leaned back, closing his eyes, and let the sound of the Kinks wash over him, and continued to enjoy the contents of his rocks glass. He would take a sip, swirl it around in his mouth, and swallow, feeling the alcohol sear his esophagus all the way down to his stomach. It didn't make the ache in his buttocks and arms go away, but it began to make the noises in his head go away. Picking up the bottle, he poured some more liquor into his glass.

Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw the door to his kitchen open up. His house was laid out in open concept, so he had a clear vision of the door, which led to his workshop, from where he sat. The door closed, and stepping out from behind a kitchen counter, two of his favorite elves came into view.

The first elf was a cute redhead, with long tresses that reached the top of her ass cheeks. She was wearing the top half of her work outfit, a jacket with a form fitting cut. It was emerald-green with white furry trim. It was open, and there was not another stitch of clothing on her. The old man could clearly make out the patch of red hair above her pussy. He began to harden, even as the whiskey was softening his thought process.

The other elf, a blond with short, curly hair, was equally fetching. She stepped out from behind the redhead to reveal the fact that she was wearing an outfit that consisted solely of matching bra and panties. The bra was lace of a ruby color; the panties so sheer that he could see, again quite clearly, that she had no hair at all adorning her pubic area. If the sight of Red had made his cock start to firm up, then it was Goldie who had started the process of making the contents of his nuts start to simmer.

Part of the reason the old man was fond of these two was because they didn't put up with any of his bad disposition. They knew how to give back as well as they got, and the banter between the three of them was extremely refreshing -- and a tad raunchy at times. He loved verbally sparring with them, even as he was delightedly spearing them with his cock, and more frequently, his tongue. But tonight there would not be much talking.

Raising his glass to them, and nodding his head in welcome, he beckoned them towards him. The two elves scampered across the room, playful, lascivious looks on their elfin faces and practically launched themselves up onto his lap. The way Red landed on his right thigh caused his robe to open, letting them see his now fully hardened cock. The old man did not have an extremely large cock, but the elves in his lap loved the shape and texture of it. For them it was perfect. Any larger, and neither one of them would have been able to fit it inside of them. As it was, the fact that they were so tiny, and proportioned as such from head to toe, made it difficult to get all the old man's cock inside them. Luckily both of his little, elfin sweethearts got extremely wet, providing him with lots of natural lubricant.

Goldie flashed the old man a big grin, showing off a set of perfect elfin teeth, and said to him "Why, Nicky, you brought us back our candy cane. How thoughtful of you." The potbelly of the old man began to heave a little in silent laughter as he remembered about the time Red had felt particularly mischievous and had made use of some leftover body paint. She had clutched both of his balls in her tiny, little, elfin hands and kissed his cock with her talented, elfin mouth until his shaft was fully extended. Then, while continuing to stimulate him, she had artfully painted red and white spirals from the base of his prick to just beneath the mushroom-shaped head.

Thinking about that made the old man shiver. Goldie had done her part in that, too. She had taken a bottle of peppermint extract and, with the tip of her finger, had placed a single drop on the tip of his cock. She then swirled it around the head until it was completely coated with the essence of peppermint. The feeling of the extract on his nerve- packed glans made him feel like a thousand tiny icicles were dancing on it. And when the two tiny elves began to kiss, nibble, and suck on his cock head, he obliged them with more than a dollop of his thick, cream colored cum.

The old man planted kisses on the lips of both of his co-workers. They tasted so sweet, he thought to himself. He took a large gulp of his rye and, placing his drink on the table next to his chair, he leaned back some, and spread his legs wide, so that the outside of his thighs touched the inside of the huge leather chair. He grabbed Red with his hands and positioned her so that she straddled his left thigh. Goldie didn't wait. She spread her own legs wide and straddled his right thigh, shuddering as she placed one hand on his cock (purely for balance, she lightheartedly said) and the other on his right shoulder. He could feel the evidence of her excitement, the juices of her cunt seeping through the fabric of her panties, lathering his leg while she began to grind away on it.

Red had her eyes closed and was leaning back, with her hands on his knee. This served to thrust her chest forward, her breasts partially hidden by the uniform jacket she was wearing. The old man reached over with one hand and parted the jacket, exposing her tits. Red had nipples shaped like gumdrops, and she had a habit of flavoring them like the purple ones he loved to suck on. He loved to suck on her nipples even more.

The old man took a minute to take in the scene before him. Fuck winter wonderlands, he thought. This view was more beautiful than any snow-covered panorama. He placed his right hand on the waist of his blonde haired elf, making sure that she would not fall off. His left hand slid under the jacket of his red haired cutie, four fingers slipping up under her armpit and around to her back, his thumb lightly brushing the hard little bud of her right breast. He leaned forward to capture her left breast with his lips. She had not disappointed him, and he savored the spice-flavored 'gumdrop' as he dabbed at the nipple with his tongue.

As the old man sucked on her breast, Red was prompted to hearken back to a night several Christmases ago. Red had pierced nipples and she had mentioned this to Nicholas. That evening he had enticed her into stripping for him. She also allowed herself to be blindfolded. As she stood naked before the old man, he had kneeled down and removed the little stud in her right nipple. She felt something being pushed back into the hole, and, when his hand was removed, felt a tug as whatever had been inserted pulled down on her breast with a little bit of weight. The same thing happened with her left nipple.

Red had to admit to herself that the weight of the new adornments to her nipples was getting her aroused. She could feel fluids begin to seep out of her pouting pussy lips. She could also feel things being placed on top of red hair and along her shoulders. Red could hear Nicholas stand up and she could sense him moving away from her. Her arousal increased with each passing second, and she could have sworn that her juices were going leak out onto the floor she was standing on.

Suddenly a brilliant flash went off, her eyes going wide behind the blindfold. She gasped, and then relaxed a bit as the old man came to her once again. She felt his hands move up behind her head to remove the blindfold. When she looked down at her breasts, she saw two glass Christmas ornaments dangling from her nipples. Red squealed with delight, then shock set in as she realized the old bastard had snapped her picture. He had, pinched between two fingers, a Polaroid photo of her, and he was holding it up for her to see. She was draped with silver tinsel and she looked absolutely stunning, with her long red locks draped over her shoulders. She jumped up, in an attempt to snatch the picture from his hand, but he merely laughed and held it higher.

His other hand grabbed her by the butt, her little elfin ass fitting nicely in his hand. One of his fingers found its way between her ass cheeks and wriggled quickly into her soaked pussy. He pulled her to him, so that her labia wrapped around the underside of his cock, and he began to move her up and down, as she started to moan with pleasure. The old man had often thought that he was using these darling little creatures to masturbate, like little elfin animated sex toys. But he was quickly reminded that they were getting as much pleasure as him, for the juices coating the base of his cock and dripping down over his balls was not coming from this little redhead's bladder.

A bite of her left nipple brought Red back to present. She moaned at the nibbling and glanced over at her friend. The blonde elf had her eyes fixed on the old man's cock. She had her tiny, delicate, elfin hand around it, and was pumping it slowly. She was rubbing her pussy on his thigh at the same, slow pace. As the excitement in her grew, she began to move faster. The pumping of Nicholas's cock increased accordingly. Red leaned over and put a hand on Goldie's shoulder. She gave her a look that made it very clear what she wanted. The blonde leaned toward the redhead and the two of them embraced and began to kiss each other. Both of them were continuing to grind away on the old man's thighs and Red placed her right hand on his cock, joining her friend's.

Nicholas was enjoying the feeling of the two hands rubbing up and down his cock. He was also enjoying the vision of these two darling elves kissing passionately. He watched as the pumped away and, picking up his glass of rye, took another sip from it. Putting it back on the table, he moved his hands so that each one rested on an elves hip. His thumbs each found the top of a moist slit, and with a small amount of movement, he found their clits. His thumbs began to make minute swirling motions, and he increased the pressure as played with their little love buttons.

Red and Goldie moaned into each others mouths, and as the pressure on their clits increased, and the taste of each others tongues flooded their senses, they both lost all thought of the cock they were stroking in unison. The old man began to lift himself off his chair and sit back down again. The change in motion, and what it did to their labia, was enough to send both elves over the edge of their orgasmic waterfall. Cumming together - mouths not separating for an instant - stealing the breath from each other, almost caused them to pass out.

The old man held each of them steady, and as waves of pleasure coursed through them, like his reindeer through the night sky, he brought them both close to his hairy chest and held them while they caught their breath. Such beautiful, little sexy, fairies, he thought. And, in a moment, they would make him cum. But this was their moment and he didn't want to disturb it. He inhaled the scent of their hair. Goldie's smelled like sugarplums, sweet as candy. Red's smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg and he often thought that she did it to spice up his life; it worked.

While the two elves rested on his chest, the old man took another sip of his drink. The two elves were murmuring contentedly, and he put the glass back down again. Dipping his finger into it, he watched as a drop fell back down into the glass with tiniest of splashes. Dipping into it once more, he curled his finger so that a drop of the elixir rested on his fingertip. He carefully moved his hand around Goldie until he reached his cock, and ever so slowly allowed the whiskey to roll off his fingertip onto the tip of his still erect penis. Goldie was the first elf to regain her senses, and she reached down to massage the amber liquid into the head of his cock.

She did this in what the old man thought was an absentminded manner, but when she shifted her body so that she could bring her face down to his cock, he knew her actions were for a reason. Goldie inched close enough that she could flick out her tongue and touch the underside of his penis's tip. He flinched as she blew across it, the hot air reacting with the rye. She brought her lips into contact with his shaft and began to suck.

The blonde-haired elf loved to suck cock. She really enjoyed sucking the old man's cock. There was something about the texture of its skin and the taste of the clear fluids that leaked from the tip as his excitement built that drove her wild. She liked being able to wrap her hands around it, digging her tiny fingers into the firm shaft and watching the white marks disappear when she removed them. She delighted in the fact that he would let her do anything to it, to him, that she thought would help make him cum.

Red, coming out of her orgasm induced haze, was starting to become aroused again, watching the actions of her blonde friend. She took one of her little elfin hands and began to finger herself, pinching her labia, and smearing her juices up and down each one. Her hips began to move, causing the old man to notice. He reached down between her legs, slipped a fingertip alongside her finger, moved it to his lips, and was rewarded with a taste that overwhelmed him.